


at a table for two

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Series: unwitting [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Female Rapist, Hypervigilance, Male abuser, Maria's POV, Not really mentioned in this fic but it's a series and in the first one it is, both of the former relationships mentioned were abusive, definitely mentioned in this fic, is Theo her best friend or a crush? who knows. but there are a few soft mentions of her here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:36:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I just wanted to help someone. It didn't have to be the world, I definitely didn't need to save them. I just needed to know that at the end of the day, I made one person's life better. Even if in just a little way." It's a confession, and she's going to tell this differently to Theo later. She'll say he pushed. That he asked too many questions. Something other than the fact that the weight of years of silence made her keep talking. "I grew up hearing that I could do great things. I wasn't real smart, but I was real kind."</p>
            </blockquote>





	at a table for two

Maria notices Alex far before he notices her. Which isn't surprising, really. Not with the way she still clocks the room, double checking every occupant, eyes gliding every exit sign as she plans her escape routes should she see a familiar face. It doesn't matter that she hasn't seen him in years, doesn't matter that he doesn't live here. She learned her lesson. She doesn't need to be taught it twice.

Hypervigilance, her therapist calls it. A symptom of PTSD. Heart rate always just a little too fast, a little too easy to send into flights of fancy. She always feels like she's had just a little too much caffeine. But these days everything feels like a symptom, like a coping mechanism, like something for her therapist to label. Give a name and wave it away.

No, Maria has no interest in waving away this. Even if it is hypervigilance, hypervigilance will keep her safe.

Except, of course, when her lack of attention makes it a moot point- Alex's body colliding with hers as she walks away from the counter at the coffee shop. The croissant in her hand falls to the floor, and she's just about to try and get everything out of the way ---reassure him that it's okay before he recognizes her--- when she realizes he's not apologizing.

Which might make him an asshole if it weren't for the fact that the man looks mid panic attack, mouth open but no sound coming out, seemingly frozen in time. Maria has less than three seconds to decide what she wants to do, but in the end, she settles for reaching out and gently guiding him outside. It might not be where he was originally headed, but she's always found the fewer people around the better.

Once outside, she waits for him to gather herself. Maria always hates it when people tell her to breathe so she doesn't bother, just stands there awkwardly as he comes down. Comes back to himself. The first thing he says when he does is, "Sorry."

Repeats it like a mantra until she shakes her head. "Don't be."

The man licks his lips, and she takes the moment to really take stock of him. Maria isn't sure what to make of what she sees. If possible, the purple bags under his eyes have grown more pronounced in the six months since she saw him last, and his lips are so chapped she almost wants to offer him her Blistex. But other than that, he's clean shaven, hair tied back in a neat bun.

"I owe you a... whatever I just ruined. Though, maybe not in there after the scene I just caused."

Maria can't really afford to turn down free food, but she crosses her arms anyway. "How's your wife?"

The implication isn't missed if the way he rubs at his face means anything. "Staying with her mother. She left me."

Had that been her fault? He must realize her worry because he shakes his head, sighing. "Thought I was cheating."

"Were you?" Considering he left the bar with her, Maria can't blame his wife, whoever she is, for assuming such. Or for leaving him.

Alex shakes his head and Maria stares at him, trying to figure out if she believes him. The part of her that is still hurt from their exchange in her apartment wants to say no. That men are good for one thing and one thing alone, and that's being terrible. Finding new ways to let her down. But that night at the bar he hadn't hit on her once. Hadn't placed his hand on her thigh, hadn't made a dirty joke. Maria had been the one to assume that there was no other reason why a man might want to listen to her for hours.

Today isn't all that different, she's wearing a sundress that Theo bought her and his eyes haven't drifted lower than her face since he came back to himself. The offer to buy her something hadn't sounded like a pickup line, he'd used the same tone that he'd asked if he could sober up on her couch. For whatever reason, Alex reminded her more of a kicked dog than a pervert.

"There's a little cafe not far from here," Maria finally says. "But it's a sit-down restaurant."

"That's fine," Alex's hands do a quick pat down of his own clothes, possibly checking for his keys and wallet. "I had a job interview this morning. No rush for this afternoon."

Okay, she can handle that. Maria glances around again, double checks that no one is watching them before nodding the direction of the cafe. When it's clear that she has his attention, Maria starts walking. Alex hangs by her heels, letting her lead the way, smiling sheepishly when she catches his eye outside of the brick building. It's an odd expression, and she wishes she could place why he's behaving so awkwardly, but in the end- it's not worth trying to understand him.

After all, she's just doing this for the free meal.

The hostess takes them to their seats and Maria pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear as they sit down. No need to look at the menu. It's Theo's favorite restaurant, one they go to on Sunday's usually. A cherished ritual. But Alex takes the menu that is offered, eyes wandering over the text before he sits it down to look back up at her. "This seems like an interesting place."

Non-traditional. Theo doesn't believe in chain restaurants. Prefers small family owned businesses. Calls it keeping money in the community during her rants. Maria's not sure she'd have a political opinion on anything if it weren't for the other woman. Not that Maria always agrees with her, but Theo encourages her to participate. To take a stance. To educate herself. When they'd met, the only thing Maria had been interested in educating herself was the art of disappearing. Part of her still envies how easy Theo makes visibility seem.

Theo isn't for Alex though. Alex doesn't get to know about her. So Maria doesn't respond to the comment other than with a slight nod. "You said you had an interview this morning?"

The best way to not reveal anything else about herself is to keep him talking. It's better than sitting in silence and ruining the gentle atmosphere here. Alex seems slightly surprised that she's asked but then he smiles, a little more sure of himself. "Yeah. A friend of mine has been on me to interview for a job with the company his parent's run. But I hate the whole notion of 'who you know', especially because usually the position that comes up isn't anything I'd be good at. But they've decided they need a social media person and I might fit the bill there."

"What did you do before?"

Alex pauses in telling her about his journalism and freelancing so that they can place their orders with the waitress. When they're done, he seems to have lost his train of thought completely. Blinks into space a moment before focusing back on her. "Flowers, right? How are the flowers doing?"

Dead probably isn't the right answer, but she's a florist, not a gardener. The things she makes are fated to only be beautiful for a finite amount of time, and it doesn't matter how many times Theo reassures her that they're lovely- she still feels bad about that. It's probably ridiculous to over-empathize with plants or the things she creates, but she does. Theo's always been so much better at separating herself from her art.

"In bloom." For a time at least. "We've been decently busy lately. Summer love and all that."

Summer love just as fleeting as the arrangements she makes. Not that Maria is bitter. No, she's made this life for herself and that's more than she thought she'd ever be able to do. Transience, the ability to move on, to grieve and dust herself off, these are all things she's had to rely on the past few years. When she's ready, and only when she's ready, she'll be able to move onto something more permanent.

In the moment, she'll take her pleasures where she can.

A not quite awkward silence settles over them, broken only when the waitress appears with their lunch. Maria leans back so that her meal can be placed in front of her and Alex accepts the empanada that he's offered. Takes a bite before sitting it down on his place again, and for a moment, Maria wonders if she's supposed to apologize if he doesn't like the food. Just as she decides that his opinion doesn't matter so long as she enjoys her own, he speaks up. 

"Would it be corny of me to say this place reminds me of my mother?"

Probably. But Maria tilts her head anyway, encouraging him to talk in between bites of her own enchilada. Alex doesn't offer up a story, though, only returns to his food. There's no imagery about him thirty years younger covered in flour at his mother's feet in the kitchen or even of hot summer days and street vendors. At least, not anywhere other than her mind, as Maria tries to turn over what would be strong enough for him to mention it all, but then not go on to explain.

Not that she cares. Maria just prefers conversation over lunch. 

So does Alex, apparently, because he makes a face before setting his food down again. "I'm trying not to overstep any boundaries... Am I allowed to ask what you went to college for?"

That's polite of him, and it's an innocent enough of a question. "Social Work."

Alex chews on the information. "Wanted to be a savior, huh?"

Of course, she'd forgotten that everyone has an opinion on college majors. She's been out just long enough to forget the endless comments, though he at least sidestepped the most obvious ones. No mention of how little money social workers made, or how bad the burnout rate is. Of how naive she was, though she can read the tinges of it in his statement.

Maria shakes her head, because no, she didn't want to be a savior. She wanted to be a ladder. Still does, most of the time. Saviors thought they were better than everyone else. Saviors thought they could save people. Maria knows better than anyone that people can't be saved.

Especially not against their will. 

Maria wanted to be a lightbulb, wanted to be bright enough that people could see what was happening around them. Wanted to offer them the information they needed, so that they could read it on their own time. Wanted to be a lighthouse that could signal people the way home. To safety. A warm coat in the winter months, a meal when people were down on their luck.

No, Maria has no interest in saving anyone. 

But she doesn't say any of that. "You must think me naive."

Men always did.

Always underestimated her. As if the dirt under her nails was just from the gardens and not from clawing her way out from the bottom.

Alex stares at her for a second, and she hates it. Hates the way he's looking at her. It isn't on her preapproved list of understood facial expressions, and while she's pretty sure it's not a threatening look, she hates being unsure. 

"Naive? No. I guess I just stuck my foot in my mouth." It's a concession. It's not nearly enough, but he's not done either. "You know, I became a journalist because I thought I could change things. Expose the ills of the world, the corrupt politicians, the things that go bump in the night. Make a name for myself in the process. Become someone worth knowing. Now that? That was naive."

It's self-deprecating, but Alex seems to be good at that kind of relation. Putting himself down to put her at ease and she's not sure how she feels about it. It reeks a little too familiar. 

"I just wanted to help someone. It didn't have to be the world, I definitely didn't need to save them. I just needed to know that at the end of the day, I made one person's life better. Even if in just a little way." It's a confession, and she's going to tell this differently to Theo later. She'll say he pushed. That he asked too many questions. Something other than the fact that the weight of years of silence made her keep talking. "I grew up hearing that I could do great things. I wasn't real smart, but I was real kind."

It's an unintentional slip, back to how she used to talk. Before the college education stole the poverty from her accent. "Real mature. You don't know what it's like to be a young girl. Someone tells you that you'll be something and you don't stop to think about whether or not it's what you want. You just do your best to be a good something. And that? That got me preyed on."

Maria uses her fork to push around the rice on her plate, and even though she's silent, Alex doesn't fill the silence. Waits to hear what she has to say, and part of her wishes he wouldn't. That he'd be uncomfortable and change the subject like most people do. Because she doesn't have the self-control right now to stop herself from continuing. 

"Couldn't tell me nothing either. Fifteen years old with a man not much younger than you." Alex flinches at that comment but doesn't stop her still. "No one tried to save me until it was too late. Until he already had me convinced that the mature thing to do? Was to stay. I wasn't like them other flighty young things, I could commit. Wasn't like them other bitches, I could keep my mouth shut. You can't save people. Saviors hang themselves on their own capes, so no, I didn't want to be one. Already done enough of that."

For the first time, Maria doesn't look around her, doesn't want to see who might have heard. In a soft voice, Alex asks how she ended up at the florist. Soft, like he might startle her. Like she needs to be treated with kiddie gloves now that he knows. 

But he doesn't get that story. He doesn't get Theo. It isn't any of his business, and she tells him such.

Is surprised when he accepts it. "Do you want to make fun of republicans again?"

Yes. Yes, she does. At least that's safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> Every time you make a comment that further marginalizes already marginalized groups of survivors? I write another fic involving marginalized survivors. This includes but is not limited to: male survivors, survivors of female assailants, non-piv rape survivors, spousal rape survivors. 
> 
> So I mean... you can make a gross comment about the fact that you don't think female rapists exist- or that you think that certain character traits prevent someone from being a rapist/abuser.... you can even make a nonsensical comment on a fic involving a straight guy that a woman is being demonized to 'get the gays together.' 
> 
> But another fic will be written.


End file.
